


I Beg You To Forgive, Forgive, Forgive Me

by falseidols



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst?, Declarations Of Love, F/M, War and Peace AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 10:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falseidols/pseuds/falseidols
Summary: Abbie has done something bad, and she has ruined her family in the process. Ichabod comes to visit her to see how she was handling the fallout. He has no idea what he can do, what words he can offer to comfort her. But he comes anyway.





	I Beg You To Forgive, Forgive, Forgive Me

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the scene in “War and Peace”, Chapter XXII, Book Eight: 1811 - 12. Also inspired by “Pierre and Natasha” in “Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812”.

They stood across the room from one another. The drawing room felt huge, but stuffy. On the shelves along the walls lived books written during times before the war. They called upon the past, a time of peace.

“Ichabod Thomas Crane,” she said. It was soft. No, it was somber and almost weak.

“Ichabod,” was all he responded. His eyes were full of sorrow, and confusion, but also kindness. Abbie felt that she was undeserving. She could no longer meet his eyes.

That name—his name—used to roll off her tongue with ease. Now with everything she’d done, it felt heavy. It felt wrong. She did not repeat it. She couldn’t. She did not deserve to use simply his first name—it was too intimate, too friendly.

He saw the hesitation in her eyes. He took a step forward. Abbie took a step back. Her thin, lifeless arms were wrapped around her chest, needing some form of protection. Protection from herself, and all of her mistakes.

She wanted Ichabod to scold her. To raise his voice at her. To turn his back and walk out the door. How could he come visit her, and be so gentle?

Ichabod wanted to despise her. He tried to reprimand her. But all he could do was look at her, and he felt pity.

He looked at her like she was the moon, and it was almost sunrise. Abbie did not like being under his spotlight.

“I ask,” she began, her voice still soft and frail, “I beg,” she said, replacing her first attempt.

“I beg you to find room in your heart to forgive me.” She said at last, hoping he would do so, but knowing she deserved nothing of the sort.

Ichabod had nothing to say. There was no need to forgive. He never held anything against her in the first place. He couldn’t understand why she would need his forgiveness.

Abbie heart felt like it was splitting in two. She could no longer hold herself together.

Abbie began to cry. She wept for him, for her family, for everyone. Her chest heaved. She was tormented by the wrongs she had done the people in her life. She hadn’t directly hurt Ichabod, but her actions rippled to everyone in her life. She felt selfish, and contaminated.

Ichabod felt a great sense of sadness. His heart was overflowing with love, and pain.

“We won’t speak of it anymore. We don’t have to ever speak of it ever again. But please, consider me your friend. If you ever need anything—even someone to open your heart to—please, think of me,” Ichabod said. His hands were shaking. His lungs felt like they were being crushed.

“Don’t speak like that,” Abbie said, “I don’t— I can’t—” she stumbled over her words.

“You have your entire life ahead of you. You don’t have to go through it alone.” He said.

“My entire life? That’s over now,” Abbie’s breathing slowed down. Tears still streamed down her face. Her tired eyes just barely met his. The words felt stuck in her throat.

“No,” Ichabod took another step forward. Abbie took another step back.

“Please, just listen to me,” He said.

He grew quiet. He closed his eyes for a moment and took in a shaky breath. Ichabod has to compose himself. He had to find the right words. He always could, but in this moment, he felt like he was groping in the darkness.

“If—If I we’re unwed,” He began, “And I were not myself,” He continued. That was what truly held him back. Himself—not his marital status. Just him and his fear of not being everything Abbie deserved.

“If I were the smartest, most handsome, best man on Earth, I would get down on my knee right this second, and give you my hand,” Abbie allowed Ichabod to step closer to her, but still, he kept her within arm’s length.

“And,” He continued, almost afraid, “My love.” His voice broke.

And Abbie wept. Tears of gratitude. Tears of thanks. She put her hand to Ichabod’s cheek for a moment. He leaned into her hand. She stroked his cheek with her thumb. Then she smiled. It was brief, but it meant the world to Ichabod to see that he could bring the old Abbie back to the surface.

Abbie dropped her hand and turned to leave the room. Her heart skipped a beat as she went up the stairs to her room.

Ichabod was holding back tears of tenderness. Tears that choked him. And he tightened his coat around him, turning to return to the winter night.


End file.
